Family Ties
by vinkunwildflowerqueen
Summary: If Fiyero's inherited anything from his father, it's his reluctant knowledge of the Tiggular family history. And now he's going to share them with Elphaba. A series of oneshots. Musicalverse. AU. Most have Fiyeraba. Most recent: Natela Dahl, Fiyero's 12x great grandmother.
1. Fala Tiggular

**DISCLAIMER: Whilst the** _ **Wicked**_ **characters aren't my property or creation, Fiyero's ancestors are.**

 **AN. Recently, whilst struggling with writer's block, I somehow ended up tracing back the Vinkun royal family to the 1100s. I'm not quite sure how it happened, and I had no purpose for doing it. So, this was suggested.**

 **Fala Tiggular**

 **(1688-1725).**

 _ **Reigned from 1719-1725.**_

Elphaba was curled up on her bed, surrounded by books and papers. She had a notepad balanced on a knee as she scribbled notes that would eventually form her History essay. She was having trouble focusing though, her heart just wasn't in it. History wasn't just the same the past few weeks, ever since Dr Dillamond had been taken. Elphaba found it increasingly difficult to sit there and look at the man who had replaced Dr Dillamond and would have happily silenced a helpless, innocent Lion Cub without a second thought.

And then there was the fact she had been rather distracted by thoughts she should not be having about her roommate's boyfriend. Her friendship was Galinda was relatively fresh, and Elphaba was finding herself surprisingly grateful for the blonde's friendship, considering they had spent their whole first semester at Shiz loathing one another. Which was why she felt so guilty.

She had the small consolation that Galinda thankfully didn't seem to suspect anything. Elphaba had been somewhat worried, considering that overnight she and Fiyero had gone from bickering constantly to barely speaking and awkward silences. And then Fiyero had suddenly switched gears and started being what could only be described as friendly towards Elphaba. He'd make conversation when they were in the same room, and had taken to calling her "Fae", although Elphaba had no idea where that name had come from.

Lost in thought, Elphaba jumped a mile as there was a knock on the door.

"It's open!" she called, not feeling like climbing over all the books on the bed to open the door.

She expected it was someone looking for Galinda, the only one who came to visit her was Nessa and even that was rare.

The door opened and Elphaba's notepad fell from her lap as Fiyero stuck his head in the room. He looked a little surprised and awkward to find her alone.

"Um, hi. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Elphaba shook her head, feeling self-conscious. "No. I'm just… trying to outline this History essay."

Fiyero's brow furrowed. "History essay?"

She blinked at him. "The one due Friday after next?" she reminded him.

"Oh, right. I should probably… try and find where I wrote the question down," Fiyero said thoughtfully and Elphaba resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Were you after Galinda?" she asked him and he nodded.

"Yeah. Is she around?"

"She went into town with Milla. Something about a make-up sale… I think. I wasn't really listening once I heard the word 'shopping'," Elphaba admitted.

Fiyero grinned and Elphaba's stomach did that weird flipping thing it had taken to doing around the prince.

"I don't blame you. But thanks. See you later, Fae."

"Wait," Elphaba blurted out suddenly, as he withdrew and pulled the door closed after him.

The door came to a stop, and then opened again as Fiyero stepped just over the threshold into the room.

"Why do you call me that?" she asked him, curiously.

Fiyero's brow furrowed. "Call you what?"

"Fae. It just… it doesn't make sense."

Fiyero looked uncomfortable. "Well, I got the impression that Galinda's lucky you let her call you 'Elphie'-"

" _Let_ is a strong word," Elphaba muttered, and Fiyero grinned.

"See? And well, I thought you needed a nickname, and I heard your sister call you 'Fabala'."

Elphaba nodded warily. "That doesn't explain where you got 'Fae' from, though."

Fiyero looked sheepish. "It's a long story, and it's pretty dumb."

Elphaba raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're going to be calling me by a name, and I'm going to be answering to it, shouldn't I know why?"

Fiyero considered her for a moment, and then shrugged. "OK," he agreed.

To Elphaba's shock, he entered the room and shut the door behind him, taking a seat on Galinda's vacant desk chair.

Slowly, Elphaba readjusted herself on the bed, putting her notepad and books aside and looked to Fiyero expectantly.

"The thing is," he began. "You kinda remind me of someone I know… of."

Elphaba frowned at him, puzzled. "I remind you of someone you know of?" she repeated. "You know someone else green?"

"Not in that way," Fiyero corrected her. "See, my great… hang on, let me get this right. My great- great- great- great- great grandmother," he said slowly, counting off on his fingers whilst looking in deep concentration, as Elphaba's eyebrows rose.

"Her name was Fala. She went by Fae," Fiyero explained. "When I heard your sister call you 'Fabala', I just thought of it. My Dad's been drumming family history into me since I was a kid, he'd tell me stories of our ancestors as bedtime tales. Do you mind?"

Elphaba was more than a little surprised. "No, I don't mind," she replied quietly, a little startled to realise she was being honest.

"Um, Fala?"

Fiyero nodded. "Fala Tiggular."

"Right. How exactly do I remind you of her?"

Fiyero looked awkward for the first time since sitting down.

"Well, she did a lot of work with the Animal community in the Vinkus," he said and Elphaba stilled.

"Oh?" she said after a moment, trying to make her voice sound casual.

"Yeah. We've got a place at Kvon Altar, Croome Gal, which she built. Kvon Altar has a pretty big Animal population, or I guess it really did back then. She built it there to work with the Animals, as far as the stories go anyway. She also negotiated the peace treaty between Ugabu and the Vinkus, which can't have been easy."

Elphaba readjusted her position, watching Fiyero intently.

"My knowledge of Vinkun history is a little vague," she admitted. "What happened?"

"Her parents, two older sisters and their families were murdered by the Ugabians. Fala and her husband and son were in the Emerald City at the time and survived, and she had to end the war to be able to go back and take the throne."

Elphaba knew enough about the Vinkus to know that there had been tension between the Vinkus and Ugabu for centuries, namely about whether it was a part of Oz or not. The arrival of the Wizard had not helped matters, Elphaba knew Fiyero's parents were working hard to keep the tension from erupting into fighting again.

"How old was she? When it happened?" she asked him softly, unable to stop herself from thinking of what it would be like to lose your whole family so brutally.

She had lost her mother, and her relationship with her father was nothing to write home about, but at least she still had Nessa. Elphaba didn't want to imagine losing her sister.

"I'm not sure exactly. But she was married and had a kid, so I don't think she was exactly young," Fiyero reassured her.

"I don't think it's easy to have your family murdered at any age," Elphaba replied dryly and Fiyero nodded in acknowledgment.

Her History essay entirely forgotten and feeling more comfortable in Fiyero's company than she ever had before, Elphaba drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin atop them.

"What else do you know about her?" she asked him.

Fiyero paused thoughtfully, never thinking he'd be grateful for his father's endless stories and wishing he'd paid more attention.

"To be honest, not much," he finally admitted, coming up blank. "I don't think she reigned for very long."

Elphaba paused. "Is that why you thought of her? The name?"

Fiyero faltered just briefly. "Well, yeah. I mean, at first. When I heard Nessa call you 'Fabala', the name popped into my head. It took me a few minutes to remember why the name sounded kind of familiar, and then I remembered what my Dad told me about her work with the Animals. It just seemed to fit, considering…"

Awkward silence filled the room.

"I should go," Fiyero said finally. "When Galinda gets back, could you tell her that I came by?"

Elphaba nodded. "Sure."

Fiyero got to his feet and headed for the door. Just before he got there, he turned back to her.

"You really don't mind? The nickname?"

Elphaba's heart clenched at the flicker of apprehension she saw on his face for the briefest moment.

"No, I don't mind," she said quietly. "I think I should do some reading on her and find out more about her," she added with the shadow of a smile.

Fiyero smiled back. "Probably a good idea," he agreed. "Books are probably a more reliable source than me."

He opened the door and stepped into the hall. Just as Elphaba reached to pick up her notebook and pen, he stuck his head back into the room.

"Hey. I just remembered one more thing about Fala Tiggular. I don't know whether it'll be in the books or not, but just in case it comes up…"

Elphaba frowned, bewildered. "What?"

"Because the Animals and everything is good, but she may not be a role model in every aspect…"

"Fiyero, what are you talking about?" she demanded.

"She married her cousin," Fiyero informed her cheerfully, and then waved and disappeared.

" _Wait!"_ Elphaba called after him, after a moment's shock and jumped off her bed.

She threw open the door and stepped into the hall, finding Fiyero obediently pausing just down the hall.

"She married her _cousin?"_

Fiyero nodded calmly. "Yeah. Pirro Tiggular. You know it used to be spelled differently? T-I-G-E-L-A-A-R. Pirro changed the spelling when they married- like that made it less weird," he rolled his eyes.

Elphaba stared at him.

"Did any of your other relatives marry within the bloodline?"

"Not that I know of," Fiyero said thoughtfully. "It wasn't that big of a deal in those days, you know."

"I know that," Elphaba admitted. "I mean, I've heard that. I've just never known of anyone who actually _did_ it before."

Fiyero shrugged. "It's a fairly gross thought, I know," he agreed. "But it seemed to work out ok. Look at me- only ten fingers, ten toes," he grinned. "Everything normal."

Elphaba smirked. "I wouldn't go that far," she said and then returned to her room.

Fiyero grinned as she shut the door behind her and then continued down the hall.

 **AN.** **If people are interested, it could become a series of oneshots that I update at times. If not, this is just a random piece and take it as it is.**

 **Also "Just Me"- thank you for contacting me, I really appreciate it, and definitely understand what you mean about teachers and the internet! Unfortunately, the site doesn't like any use of links- it wipes out anything with a dot com in it. I just didn't want you to think I was being terribly rude in not contacting you!**


	2. Iason Tigelaar

**DISCLAIMER: Whilst the** _ **Wicked**_ **characters aren't my property or creation, Fiyero's ancestors are.**

 **Iason Tigelaar**

 **(1588-1647)**

 _ **Reigned from 1609-1632**_

It was one o'clock on a Sunday afternoon when Fiyero finally emerged from his bedroom and trundled his way down towards the dining room. His head felt heavy and sore, and he was eager for coffee to ease the slight throbbing in his temples.

He'd been out late last night- some of his friends had thrown him a 'Welcome Home' party after he'd been expelled from yet another university, his seventh. It had been a good night, and a great party, but Fiyero definishly needed coffee and a few more hours avoiding his parents and the inevitable lecture.

Before entering the dining room, Fiyero couldn't stop himself from sticking his head around the doorway discreetly, checking to see if either of his parents were in the room lying in wait for him. Thankfully, the room was empty and the coffee pot was on the side table.

"Oz bless you," he muttered, pouring himself a cup and inhaling deeply.

He cradled the warm mug tightly in his hands and began to retreat back up to the sanctuary of his bedroom, planning on a few more hours of sleep, a hot shower and then braving some food before facing his parents.

He was just at the foot of the stairs and wishing he'd stopped to put on socks- the floors were cold- when a voice startled him.

"Good afternoon, son."

Fiyero froze, then hid his grimace as he turned. "Hi, Dad. Coffee?" he offered brightly.

Ibrahim just regarded him soberly.

"Ok," Fiyero said, keeping his voice light and cheery. " _Well,_ I'm sure you and Mom have lots of work to do, so I'll get out of your way. See you at dinner!"

"Hold it."

Fiyero stopped in his tracks only two steps up, cursing the 'dad' voice his father used so well against him.

"Dad, I really need to go have a shower and get some food," he tried to wheedle his way out of what he knew was coming. "Besides, have you really changed the lecture since May? Because, I swear I paid attention back then, and I remember… some of it."

"You should, it was the sixth time you heard it," Ibrahim said dryly.

Fiyero forced a grin. "I bet by the tenth time I'll be able to recite it to myself! In fact, why don't I go upstairs to my room, think about what I did, and see how much of the speech I remember?"

"Nice try, Yero," Ibrahim replied, neither sounding or looking as amused as his words would suggest. "Follow me."

Fiyero suppressed a groan. He expected his father to lead the way to his study, the usual spot for these lectures. Instead, his father headed down the hall, leaving a confusified Fiyero to follow with his coffee mug clutched tightly in hand.

"Dad, you know I'm twenty-four now," Fiyero said tiredly.

"So, your birth certificate would suggest," Ibrahim answered. "Your behaviour on the other hand, would claim otherwise."

Fiyero took a mouthful of coffee. He hadn't been up long enough for this.

"Dad…" he trailed off as he realised where they were going. "We're going to the portrait gallery?"

Ibrahim didn't answer as he led Fiyero into the room and past the many paintings on the wall of the past monarchs and family members.

His head giving a particularly painful throb, Fiyero walked over to a settee that sat against the wall and sank down onto it.

Ibrahim was still moving through the room, looking up at the paintings on the wall. Fiyero watched wearily, wondering which painting was the source of the family history lesson he was undoubtedly about to receive. This was a new tactic on his parents' part.

"Dad, is this _really_ the time for a family history lesson?" he asked sceptically. "Can't we just stick with the 'you need to act your age and start facing up to your responsibilities' talk?"

"We would if that appeared to have any effect," Ibrahim replied, turning to look at him. Fiyero hated the now- unfortunately familiar look of disappointment on his face.

"Fiyero, pulling a fire alarm to get out of class is behaviour I might expect from a four year old. And certainly not the future king."

Fiyero tried to explain himself for the millionth time, as he had to the teacher, the headmaster of the Central Emerald College, and his parents before.

"Dad, there was more to it than that."

"Unless it ends up with a different outcome other than you being expelled, I don't want to hear it, Yero," Ibrahim said firmly.

A perk about his parents was that they didn't yell, no matter what Fiyero did. The downside was, they were the masters of the disappointed done and matching facial expression. That always made Fiyero feel way worse than if they _did_ yell.

So, Fiyero took a mouthful of coffee and braced himself for yet another family history lesson. Although he couldn't stop himself from thinking that surely by now his father had run out of ancestors and stories to talk about.

Ibrahim sighed and came to sit beside him. When Fiyero tentatively glanced over at his father, the king pointed at a portrait on the opposite wall.

"Fiyero, there's lessons to be learned from history. Especially history within your own family."

"Dad, how far back in history are we talking? I mean, how are we even related to this guy?" Fiyero asked Ibrahim.

"Iason Tigelaar was your eighth great-grandfather," Ibrahim replied.

Fiyero suppressed a groan and slumped down slightly in his seat.

"I need more coffee for this," he mumbled to himself, rubbing his temple.

"You being our son, and the future king, it's not the only reason that your mother and I are concerned with your behaviour these past few years," Ibrahim continued, either ignoring his son or not hearing his mumbled comment.

"As we've tried to explain to you for years, your actions have consequences. When you take the throne eventually, your actions and behaviour could affect the whole kingdom and its people."

Ibrahim regarded Fiyero solemnly.

"Iason Tigelaar had Dunn Mor built in town in 1611. Do you know why?"

"So there'd be one royal residence you didn't need a map to find the bathroom in?" Fiyero guessed.

Dunn Mor was the family manor in town, and by far the smallest royal residence there was.

His father sighed. " _Fiyero_ ," he began, in a tone that told Fiyero he was far beyond the point of getting away with sarcasm.

"Sorry," he apologised quietly. "Why was Dunn Mor built?"

"For easy access to gaming halls in town."

Fiyero frowned slightly.

"Iason liked to gamble. And I'm sure he started for the same reason that you go to parties or play pranks with your friends. Because you think it's fun, or you're bored, or to relax. Am I correct?"

Fiyero shrugged slightly.

"Iason reigned for twenty-three years and gambled through it all. By the time of his death, the Vinkus was in so much debt it took six generations to completely fix the economy and the problems he caused."

Fiyero wasn't sure whether or not to be offended as he looked at his father. "You think I'm going to screw up the kingdom?" he demanded, sitting up straight. "Because I pulled a fire alarm?!"

"That's not what I'm saying, Yero," Ibrahim said gently. "I'm just saying that your actions can have a lasting effect on the kingdom. You've been protesting and rebelling against your responsibilities for years, and things have to change, son."

Fiyero avoided his gaze.

"Next semester, you'll be going to Shiz University," Ibrahim continued. "And this is your last chance. You need to pull your head in and graduate. And I'm not saying this just because it's literally the only university in Oz you haven't been to. Your mother and I want you to be able to enjoy your life and enjoy college, but not the way you've been doing it. We don't want your legacy as king to be something like Iason. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it Dad," Fiyero said bitterly, getting to his feet. "I screwed up, again; and I need to grow up before I screw up the whole Vinkus," he said and headed for the door.

" _Fiyero,"_ Ibrahim called after him, but Fiyero ignored him.

Plans for a hot shower, food and sleep were forgotten. Fiyero returned to his room long enough only to grab shoes and a coat, and then headed outside.

As it was the middle of December, it was more than a little chilly outside, but Fiyero didn't care.

He didn't have a particular destination in mind, he just needed to keep moving. As though walking would drown out his thoughts. He stalked across the grounds, past the snow covered gardens and found himself heading towards the stables. Fiyero headed inside, feeling the warmer air mixed with the scent of horses hit him as he slipped through the door.

"Av?" he called out. "You here?"

Avaric had been a classmate of Fiyero's in elementary school, and they had been rather good friends. When Avaric's father died a few years ago, and it had fallen to Avaric to support the family, Fiyero had gotten him a job at the castle stables.

Avaric loved the horses, so Fiyero was hoping his friend would be around, and he wasn't disappointed. It was only a few moments before Avaric emerged from a stall, which he had clearly been mucking out.

"Hey, Yero," he greeted him, which told Fiyero they were alone.

Avaric was careful to address him by his title among other people, although everyone knew they were friends and former classmates.

"Hey," Fiyero returned, a glum note in his tone.

"What are you doing out here?" Avaric asked.

Fiyero shrugged and seated himself on a closed barrel of oats nearby. "Needed some air. What are you doing?"

"Working. I'd say 'what does it look like I'm doing?', but I think I'm talking to the wrong person for that," Avaric joked, but Fiyero didn't even smile.

"What happened? Your parents give you a lecture and your marching orders again?"

Fiyero sighed. "Kind of. The marching orders, anyway. The lecture was a little different this time."

Avaric frowned slightly. "What school's next?"

"Shiz."

Avaric's face cleared. "Oh. That's not too bad, Yero. It's supposed to be a good school, isn't it? Not much of a party scene, I don't think, but I'm sure you'll change that," he laughed.

Fiyero smiled faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Av, you ever hear of Iason Tigelaar?" he asked his friend.

To his surprise, Avaric nodded. "Sure. King of the Vinkus in the early 1600s or something. Why?"

"How do you know that?"

Avaric grinned. "Well, the surname 'Tigelaar' was a bit of a giveaway," he said cheerfully and Fiyero chuckled.

"But I did an assignment on him in third grade."

"You did?"

"Yeah. We all had to do a report on a monarch remember?"

"No," Fiyero said blankly. "Really?"

Avaric nodded. "Yeah. You picked your father so you wouldn't have to do any research," he reminded him and a distant memory came back to Fiyero.

"Oh, yeah. Mechel Pico said I cheated," Fiyero scoffed.

Avaric laughed. "I think she was just jealous that you got a better grade than her for it. Why bring up Iason Tigelaar?"

"My Dad's lecture today included a family history lesson. All about Iason Tigelaar, and how he ruined the Vinkus and I'll be next if I don't grow up," Fiyero said bitterly.

Avaric looked at Fiyero in shock. "Your Dad didn't say that exactly, did he?"

"That was the gist of it," Fiyero answered.

Something nudged Fiyero's shoulder abruptly and he jumped a mile, springing off the barrel and whirling around. Avaric burst out laughing as Fiyero tried to calm his heart rate, glaring at the brown mare who had poked her nose over her stall door.

"What in Oz's name are you doing?" he addressed the horse.

"She's just saying hello," Avaric choked out, still laughing. "Give her some of the oats you were sitting on."

Fiyero obeyed and rubbed the mare's nose gently as she happily ate.

"So, why was your father telling you about Iason? I mean, he's got to be your great-great-great…"

"Try eight 'greats'," Fiyero interjected.

Avaric let out a low whistle. "Wow. But again, what was the point?"

"Apparently, the point is that rotten apples have many seeds," Fiyero said miserably, still patting the horse.

Avaric paused. "Are you a seed in this analogy?"

"Yes," Fiyero confirmed. "Dad was telling me all about how Iason Tigelaar was a gambler and put the Vinkus in all this debt. And he and Mom don't want me to end up like him."

Avaric looked at him pityingly, but didn't look completely surprised. "I knew about the gambling debt, but I really don't think that your parents think you'll end up that way."

"You knew about the gambling?" Fiyero asked him.

"Yeah, it was in my report in third grade," Avaric nodded. "That's why I picked him. He committed suicide, leaving his fourteen year old son to take the throne; but there's a conspiracy theory that he was murdered by people he owed money to. It's never been proven though."

Fiyero just stared at him. "See, why doesn't my father ever tell me the cool stories like that?" he complained.

Avaric chuckled. "Would knowing that your ancestor may have been murdered by debtors help your father's point?"

"Hey, the thought that my behaviour may get me killed is a good wake up call, right?"

"Your 'behaviour' is your inability to stay in one school and some practical jokes and parties. How would that get you killed?" Avaric asked reasonably.

"If I get expelled from Shiz, my father may kill me himself," Fiyero said glumly.

Avaric didn't respond, just going about his work as Fiyero wandered around saying hello to the horses.

"Yero?" Avaric asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"You know your parents really don't think you're going to screw up the kingdom, don't you?"

Fiyero shrugged half-heartedly. "Maybe they do, though."

Avaric was clearly trying to be positive. "Maybe Shiz will be good for you," he suggested. "It could be just what you need to… focus. And graduate."

"Maybe," Fiyero agreed distantly. Then he sighed. "I need food. Thanks, Av. I'll see you later."

At the stable doors, he turned back. "Want to drive me to Shiz when the semester starts? Road trip?"

Avaric rolled his eyes. "It's not a road trip when I'm on the outside doing the driving, and you're inside sleeping. But yeah, I'll drive you," he agreed.

Fiyero grinned. "Thanks, Av. See ya."

Fiyero returned to the castle and immediately retreated to his room for a hot shower. After that and grabbing some food from the kitchen, he did feel better- physically, at least.

He was lying on his bed with a magazine when there came a soft knock on the door. He knew immediately who it was.

"Yeah, Mom?"

The door opened and Kasmira entered. "Yero, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Fiyero shrugged. "Sure."

He reluctantly sat up as his mother sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm guessing you spoke to Dad?" he asked before she could say anything.

Kasmira nodded. "Yes. Yero, your father and I have every faith in your ability to be a good King when the time comes. But we want you to be as prepared for that time as you can be. Which includes a university degree."

"And Iason Tigelaar?"

His mother rolled her eyes. "Fiyero, you _know_ what your father is like about family history stories. He was trying to get through to you, but it doesn't mean that he really thinks that you won't be able to rule the kingdom."

Kasmira smiled faintly. "We worry about you, sweetheart. I know this isn't the life you'd choose for yourself if you could, but this isn't the way to go about it. What your father was trying to say, and evidently didn't say well, is that… we love you. We believe you'll be a great king, but you need to have balance in your life between your responsibilities and having fun. And you're a little out of balance."

Fiyero met his mother's gaze. "I'm not like him, Mom. Just because I'm not dying to be king doesn't mean I won't take it seriously. Or that I don't want to do a good job."

Kasmira beamed proudly and squeezed his hand. "We know, Yero."

Fiyero let out a breath. "So, Shiz, huh?"

The queen nodded. "Shiz. I think it'll be a good fit for you, sweetheart," she said confidently.

Fiyero was sure she'd said that about the past three schools, but let it slide.

"I know your Dad wants to apologise," Kasmira added softly.

He nodded. "I guess I owe him one too," he said reluctantly. "Does Dad believe the conspiracy theory about Iason Tigelaar being murdered?" he asked her as he got off the bed.

His mother stared at him blankly for a moment. "Fiyero, I can honestly say your father and I have never discussed it," she said finally.

"That's ok. I'll ask him," Fiyero reassured her, and left the room in search of Ibrahim.

Kasmira smiled faintly. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, no matter how much the apple protests," she murmured under her breath as she followed him.

 **AN. I've been trying to think of the best way to set up a kind of prompt method for this little series- whether I upload a copy of the family tree to my blog and people can name relatives they would like to hear about; or people just say "hey, who was Fiyero's great-grandmother" and I write about that; or whether it's more of a "Elphaba and Fiyero search his family tree for inspiration to name their child" kind of prompt.**

 **If you have any thoughts on this, please let me know!**


	3. Rozenn Tiggular

**DISCLAIMER: Whilst the** ** _Wicked_** **characters aren't my property or creation, Fiyero's ancestors are.**

 **Rozenn Tiggular**

 **(1758-1797)**

 **AN. This was requested by Aramenunicorn, who asked about Fiyero's great-great-great aunt.**

When Fiyero invited his girlfriend to the Vinkus for the summer, he'd planned many activities- social events to introduce her to friends; romantic dates to some of his favourite locations; and keeping her clear of his mother and any of his baby photos. He'd even factored in trips to a few museums and libraries, knowing they'd make her happy.

But what Fiyero didn't think of, was that his parents- knowing Elphaba's love of history (from his own letters)- would invite them along when they had business at some of the other royal residences on only their second day there. Naturally, Elphaba jumped at the chance, and now Fiyero found himself in a carriage with his parents and Elphaba on the way to Chorimall Irr.

Chorimall Irr had vineyards on the ground that were the source of 60% of the Vinkun wine business, and Ibrahim liked to keep involved in the process as much as he could. He would be touring the vineyard, while Kasmira met with a designer and architect to discuss the annual uptake and preservation of the ancient castle.

"Is there much that needs to be done?" Elphaba asked.

"It depends on the year, and often the weather that we have. Things like the tapestries, the brickwork, the furniture. You'd be surprised how much they can decay over time. Plus, no one's lived there in fifty years."

"You missed the exciting study _last_ summer of monitoring the dust levels after the carpets were replaced in the gallery," Fiyero said dryly.

Elphaba quirked her lips uncertainly, unsure if he was joking or not, but Ibrahim interjected sternly.

"Now, son, you know the saying when it comes to conservation. Light and dust are our sworn enemies," he said solemnly.

Fiyero smirked and Ibrahim's face broken into a grin. Kasmira sighed a long-suffering sigh.

"You boys laugh, but we'll see who's laughing when your great-great grandchildren are still able to live in that castle and look upon five hundred year old tapestries that are perfectly preserved," she said, pointing at Fiyero.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure my great-great grandchildren thank you, Mom," he said.

Elphaba watched the interaction, trying to hide her incredulity. She couldn't imagine this conversation occurring in her own home- it would be like her father having a personality.

"How old is the castle?" she asked the queen.

"Oh, about seven hundred years," Kasmira replied.

"And why did it stop being the royal residence?"

Fiyero groaned. "Elphaba, it's _summer._ It's the time to _stop_ learning and have fun."

"Learning _is_ fun," Elphaba shot back and he made a face as Ibrahim laughed.

"Elphaba, Fiyero's mentioned you enjoy history. How familiar are you with Vinkun history?"

"Not very," she admitted. "What I know mostly has come from what Fiyero's told me," she said, glancing at Fiyero.

Ibrahim looked mildly impressed. "Really? Well, I'm glad to see I've managed to teach you something, Yero; even if the past seven universities haven't."

Fiyero rolled his eyes again. "Those jokes are still funny, Dad," he said sarcastically.

Ibrahim grinned and turned back to Elphaba. "In 1781, my great-great grandfather took the throne."

"Oh good, a family history story. That's what this summer has been missing," Fiyero muttered.

Ibrahim ignored him. "He was-"

"An evil bastard," Fiyero nodded.

"He was unpopular," Ibrahim continued, ignoring Fiyero. "He was known as 'The Ice King' and he was eventually assassinated. Once his son took the throne, he decided the royal family needed a fresh start. So, Werillah Ev was built."

"So, you've never lived here?" Elphaba asked.

"No. Just the yearly trip for wine and cleaning," Fiyero answered. "Although there's far too much cleaning and not enough wine, in my opinion."

Everyone ignored him.

"Yero, it's such a beautiful day," Kasmira said to her son once they'd entered through the north gate and descended from the carriage.

"Why don't you show Elphaba around the grounds while your father and I do our business, and then we'll meet up and have a thorough tour of the castle?" she suggested.

"No wine?" Fiyero asked disappointedly. It was the only thing he liked about coming to Chorimall Irr.

"No cleaning," she corrected him. "We'll see about the wine."

It sounded like a good deal to Fiyero.

"Sure, Mom. See ya later. Fae, let's go this way," he pointed, and led her off hastily.

"Where exactly are we going?" Elphaba asked him.

Fiyero paused thoughtfully. "Well… good question. Let's see, there's the well, the granary, the chapel, the dried up moat… oh, I know! This way."

"You'd better not be taking me to see a dried up moat, Tiggular," Elphaba warned him as she followed him.

He laughed. "No. Don't worry."

He led her across the grounds and towards a building that Elphaba identified by smell before anything else.

"Stables?" she asked uncertainly. "Yero, I _have_ seen a horse before. Munchkinlander, remember? Also, I'm pretty sure you have stables at every single castle your family has."

"We do," Fiyero admitted. "But not _these_ stables."

Elphaba sighed patiently, she was well used to Fiyero's antics by now.

"Ok. What's so special about these stables?"

"Well, it's not so much the stables as the story behind them."

Elphaba nodded in understanding, a smile crossing her face. It hadn't escaped her notice that despite his complaints, Fiyero knew a lot about his family history and was quite happy to share stories as much as his father apparently was.

"Ok," she said simply. "Tell me the story."

Fiyero flashed her a grin, and led her to the stables, pointing to the sign above the door. "See that?"

" _Rozenn Mardin Memorial Stables,"_ Elphaba read. "Who's Rozenn Mardin?"

Fiyero guided her over to the fence and jumped up to sit on the railing as she perched next to him.

"The bastard that my dad mentioned in the carriage? The Ice King?"

"Yeah…"

"Rozenn was his older sister."

"Ok," she replied, not sure where he was going with this. "Wait. Why did _Egon_ get the throne and not Rozenn, if she was older?"

Fiyero shrugged. "She was a woman. The law stated at the time that women only got the throne if there was no other option."

Elphaba's eyes narrowed.

"Which is terrible," he added hastily. "And it's different _now._ My grandfather changed the law, but back then… may I continue, or would you like to rant about the sexism and patriarchal practice of the law and my ancestors?"

Elphaba couldn't help but grin. "Continue the story, but I reserve the right to rant once you're finished."

Fiyero acknowledged that and continued. "Ok, so Rozenn died pretty young-"

"How?"

"Cancer. She had it as a kid, and relapsed. Apparently when she went into remission the first time, her parents got her a horse as a gift. She started doing dressage and jumping and eventually started breeding. It became like, her thing."

"So, when she died, they named the stables after her?" Elphaba guessed.

"Nah, that took _years,"_ Fiyero shook his head. "Hey, while we're here, do you want to go for a ride? You ever been?"

Elphaba shook her head. "No. We only had horses to pull the carriages. And Nessa couldn't, obviously…"

"So your father would never have let you," Fiyero finished knowingly, setting his jaw.

Elphaba smiled faintly and nudged his side with her shoulder. "Yero, on the list of the things my father deprived me of or has done to me, riding a horse hardly makes the list."

That didn't comfort Fiyero much, and he jumped down from the fence.

"Come on, let's go for a ride."

Elphaba hesitated. "Your parents-"

"Are far too occupied with grapes and dust to worry about us at the moment," Fiyero reassured her. "They won't be looking for us for at least an hour."

"I'm wearing a dress," she reminded him.

Fiyero shrugged. "We have saddles for riding side saddle, and I'm sure there's even riding habits somewhere, if you want. Or, just bunch up your dress," he suggested.

Elphaba blinked at him. "You don't take girls riding often, do you?"

"Well, there's usually advanced notice," Fiyero grinned.

"Come on, Fae. It's the best way to see the grounds."

"You said these horses do show jumping?" she asked uncertainly and Fiyero grinned.

"We won't be doing any jumping, I promise. We'll go nice and slow," he promised.

He held out a hand to her, and Elphaba finally relented.

"Ok."

"Side saddle?"

She made a face. "If those are my choices, yes."

"Ah, the ladylike option. Galinda would be so pleased," Fiyero grinned and Elphaba laughed.

She hung back as Fiyero chatted with the stable groom, a Horse, and arranged to have two horses saddled. Fiyero took the reins of a beautiful grey gelding and led it over to her.

"This is Cymba. Sigone says he's great for inexperienced riders," he said.

Elphaba glanced behind him at Sigone, and the Horse nodded his head. "You needn't be worried with Cymba, Miss. He'll take care of you."

She nodded, managing a faint smile.

"Come on, I'll help you mount," Fiyero said to her.

He helped her up into the saddle, and once she was settled, he mounted his own horse.

"What's his name?" Elphaba asked, gesturing to his chestnut gelding.

Fiyero faltered. "Booger," he finally admitted.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow sceptically. " _Booger?"_

"I may have named him when I was seven," he sighed and Elphaba smirked. "Don't look at me like that, Elphaba," he scowled. "We have a horse in there that my mother named _Theodorable."_

Elphaba laughed.

Sigone gave Elphaba a quick lesson on riding, made Fiyero promise him three times to take care of Elphaba and the horses and then waved them off.

"What breed are these?" Elphaba asked Fiyero.

The side saddle wasn't the most comfortable position, and she felt a little nervous as the horses muscles moved with each movement, but it was a more pleasant experience than she'd expected.

"Phairx," Fiyero replied, looking over at her. "Specific to the Vinkus. You're doing well, Fae," he praised her.

"Tell me more about Rozenn," Elphaba urged him, dismissing his praise. "How old was she when her brother took the throne?"

"I don't know," Fiyero shrugged. "If you want specific dates, you have to ask my Dad. I'm only good for stories."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "That's the exact problem you have with your History essays," she scolded him.

"Fae, it's _summer._ No school talk," he reminded her. "Now, Rozenn."

Elphaba sighed and allowed him to change the subject. "Yes, Rozenn. What about her?"

"Well, there was a bit of scandal. You see, her husband remarried only a few months after she died. Next thing you know, there's all sorts of rumours and stories about exactly when and how he met his new wife. So, Egon- as the King- has her husband, his new wife and his two daughters exiled from the Vinkus."

Elphaba was startled. "Exiled? What for?" she demanded.

"Treason against the royal family."

"Rumours of an affair is _treason?"_ Elphaba exclaimed in furious disbelief.

Fiyero shrugged. "He was the King. He can do anything he wants, and no one was going to stop him, because he was terrifying. When I take the throne, if I decide to ban Mondays, who's going to stop me?"

Elphaba glanced at him as the horses continued steadily down the path. "See, you keep saying that, and I don't think you're kidding anymore."

Fiyero chuckled, but didn't say anything. Elphaba didn't find that reassuring, but it wasn't her biggest concern just then.

"How old were his daughters?"

Fiyero sobered. "Pretty young, I think. Just kids really."

"Where did they go once they were exiled?"

"The Emerald City."

Elphaba fell silent, trying to picture it. "Why exile them?" she blurted. "They were little girls, they can't have been any threat to Egon."

"My Dad says- and this is just a theory, mind you- that it was to keep the girls out of the line of the succession. If Egon didn't have kids, or only had girls, Rozenn's daughters would inherit the throne over his daughters."

"Did he have kids?"

"Two boys. But he wasn't even married at this point, I'm pretty sure."

"What happened to the girls?"

"Egon's son overturned the exile when he took the throne, that's all I know. I assume they either moved back to the Vinkus or stayed in the Emerald City. It was the oldest daughter who named the stables after her mother, so she must have come back here at least once."

Fiyero looked over at Elphaba again, noting she looked both more at ease on Cymba's back now, and also more thoughtful.

"Fae? How you doing?"

"Fine," she replied distantly.

"What are you thinking about?" Fiyero asked knowingly, and she managed a small smile.

"Rozenn's daughters. I mean, my father hates me and the Governorship will pass to Nessa and not me; but he wouldn't _exile_ me to make that happen… at least, I don't think so. The girls would have even been able to visit their mother's grave, all because their father remarried and their uncle was an ass?"

Fiyero hadn't considered that, and he hadn't even thought about Elphaba's own situation.

"How often do you visit your mom's grave?" he asked quietly, not sure if this was a question he was allowed to ask.

They'd been dating for four months, had known each other for nine, but Fiyero could count on one hand the number of times Elphaba had mentioned her mother to him.

Elphaba didn't look at him, but shrugged. "It depends. I think the last time was right before I left for Shiz."

Fiyero didn't know what to say to that, so instead he changed the subject. "So, you want to see the dried up moat?"

An hour later, they returned the horses to the stable and headed up to the castle to meet with Ibrahim and Kasmira.

"How's the wine?" was the first thing Fiyero asked his father.

"You're not going to ask about the dust?" Ibrahim asked him, glancing teasingly at his wife.

"The only dust I care about is in the tannins," Fiyero replied firmly. "Sorry, Mom."

"I'm hardly shocked, Yero," Kasmira laughed and turned to Elphaba. "Would you like to see the castle?"

"Thank you," Elphaba agreed and the queen beckoned her away from Fiyero and Ibrahim, who were now deeply immersed in a discussion about grapes.

Elphaba learned a lot from Kasmira about the castle and its history throughout the tour- not about dust. But even she as listened intently to the history of a tapestry, or a painting, or the story of how a tower in the castle was supposedly haunted by the ghost of a servant girl; she couldn't stop thinking about Rozenn and her daughters.

Finally, they stopped to eat lunch at the vineyard, and Ibrahim asked Elphaba about the tour of the grounds Fiyero had given her. Elphaba wasn't going to miss the opportunity to ask the questions that had been circling her mind for the past two hours.

"Actually, he took me to the stables," she began, glancing at Fiyero. "He told me about Rozenn?"

Ibrahim nodded. "Ah, yes."

"He was a little unclear about some of the details," she continued.

"I knew the important stuff," Fiyero said nonchalantly, waving a hand in the air.

Ibrahim chuckled knowingly. "What would you like to know?" he asked Elphaba.

"How old was Rozenn when her brother took the throne?"

The King frowned thoughtfully for a moment before replying, doing some quick calculations in his head.

"She was about your age, I believe. Early twenties. I know Egon was twenty, and I believe she was about a year or two older."

Elphaba must have looked surprised because Ibrahim smiled and explained. "Unfortunately, royals tend to take the throne either quite young, or rather elderly. Egon and Rozenn's father, Pirro, died before he could come to the throne, so Egon inherited the throne from his grandfather."

"Pirro?" Elphaba said, recognising the name. She turned to Fiyero. "The guy who married his cousin?"

Fiyero grinned, pleased that she remembered but not really surprised. "This was Pirro the Second. Grandson of the Pirro who married his cousin. I think. Dad?"

Ibrahim nodded in approval. "Yes, Yero."

Elphaba moved on to her next question. "How soon exactly after Rozenn died did her husband remarry?"

"Only a few months, I don't know the exact time," Ibrahim said apologetically. "But it certainly caused a scandal. Of course, Rozenn had been sick for five years before she died, and his new bride had been employed to care for Rozenn on her sickbed."

"How old were the kids, Dad?" Fiyero asked, knowing that would be one of Elphaba's questions.

"Ah, I _do_ know that one," Ibrahim replied gravely. "Beka was ten, and Steffina was seven."

Elphaba pondered that quietly. Old enough to have memories of their mother, but not old enough to understand why they were being forced to leave their home. She felt a pang of sympathy for the children, although it had been so long ago.

"I told Fae about your theory," Fiyero said to his father. "About why Egon would exile the girls."

Ibrahim nodded.

"I couldn't remember- was Egon married at that point?"

"No, he didn't marry for some time. And _that's_ a whole other story in itself."

"What happened to them? Do you know?" Elphaba asked the king quietly.

He smiled at her reassuringly. "Yes, I do. Beka petitioned Egon when she was an adult, asking to be able to return to the Vinkus and visit her mother's grave. Despite the fact that he had his own sons by then who would inherit the throne, he denied her. The ban was finally overturned in 1838, when the girls were middle aged."

"But what happened to them?" Elphaba asked again.

"Beka had her mother's passion for horses. She had quite a successful equestrian career until she was injured, and then she started training horses. When the ban was lifted, she and her husband moved back to the Vinkus, and she took over everything her mother had started."

"It's Beka's descendants who still manage the breeding and training," Kasmira added.

"And the younger one? Steffina?"

"Steffina married a Gilikinese nobleman. Her descendants are still there, as far as I'm aware."

Elphaba turned to Fiyero with a grin as a thought occurred to her.

"Hey, wouldn't it be funny if you and Galinda are distantly related?"

Fiyero gaped at her. "Why would you say that?" he demanded.

"Don't worry," she reassured him. "If you are, it's probably not close enough to be creepy that you dated. And if it is, you have an ancestor who married her cousin anyway."

Fiyero scowled at her. "You're not funny, Elphaba."

She just continued to grin at him. "And you're going to look it up now, aren't you?"

Fiyero turned to his father. "Dad, tell me you know the name of the guy Steffina married?" he pleaded.

Ibrahim looked torn between confusion and amusement. "Not off the top of my head, Yero, but it might be in our family tree records."

"Which is written down somewhere back at Werillah Ev?" Fiyero asked hopefully.

"Yes."

Fiyero nodded and got to his feet. "Alright, then. Is everyone finished eating? Let's go home," he said, and strode off.

Kasmira turned to Elphaba as she slowly rose to her feet. "I'm sure you realise that the odds of Steffina's husband being related to your friend Galinda are incredibly small?"

"I do," Elphaba grinned, likewise rising to her feet. "I just couldn't resist."

Ibrahim laughed. "I am really going to enjoy having you stay with us this summer, Elphaba."

"I've just got one more question," Elphaba said, as the three began to head towards the carriage.

"About Rozenn?"

"About Fiyero," Elphaba corrected. "He keeps joking about banning Mondays once he takes the throne. He _is_ actually joking about that, yes?"

Kasmira laughed softly as Ibrahim smiled wryly. "That is the ultimate mystery, Elphaba," she said.

"I fear only the history books will be able to answer that one," Ibrahim added. "For my sake, I hope so. I'd hate for his great-great-grandchildren to be sitting around looking at perfectly preserved tapestries and talking about how their great-great grandfather removed a day from the week."

He winked at Elphaba as he grinned at his wife, and Kasmira rolled her eyes. Elphaba couldn't help but smile, still rather bewildered by the family dynamic before her. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

It was definishly going to be an interesting summer.

 **AN. Hi! Yes, I am alive. Sorry about that. The past few months have been difficult to find the energy to do any writing (ideas, no problem. But actual energy to lift my fingers and type... a struggle), but I just spent Friday night listening to a talk by authors David Levithan and Rainbow Rowell, which was rather inspiring!**

 **I am still working on my next multichap, but I just can't say when it'll be finished. Hopefully this is interesting in the meantime!**


	4. Natela Dahl

**DISCLAIMER: Whilst the** _ **Wicked**_ **characters aren't my property or creation, Fiyero's ancestors are.**

 **AN. This oneshot was prompted from an Anonymous prompt on Tumblr, who wanted something about Ibrahim and Kasmira discussing Elphaba.**

 **Natela Goldin Dahl**

 **1431- 1517**

Kasmira and Ibrahim were sitting out in the garden enjoying some iced tea. It was a beautiful June morning, and whilst it was supposed to get quite warm in the afternoon, it was still very pleasant for now.

The Vinkun king was reading the newspaper, while the queen was approving and making notes of the menu for the day. The Head of Housekeeping, Mrs Ferren, entered the patio with a tray of scones.

"Fresh scones, Your Majesties," she said, placing it on the table.

"Thank you, Mrs Ferren," Kasmira replied with a smile. "Is everything set for today?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Panya has made up His Highness's bed with fresh sheets and I had Menna make up the Blue room for the young lady as per your instructions."

"Thank you, Mrs Ferren. I've made some notes on the menu, it's suitable, but I think we'll have lunch served at half past one. Fiyero wrote to expect them at noon, and I daresay they'd like to freshen up before we eat."

"Yes, ma'am. Will there be anything else?"

"No, I don't think so. Thank you."

Mrs Ferren curtseyed and left them, as Ibrahim reached for a scone and lowered the newspaper.

"You're putting the girl in the Blue room?"

Kasmira looked to him in surprise. "Yes, it has the most lovely view of the garden and I thought she'd enjoy it. Why?"

"No reason, the Blue room is nice enough. But we don't usually put guests in the family wing."

The queen raised a sceptical eyebrow at her husband. "Ibrahim, are you really naïve enough to assume this is an ordinary guest?"

Ibrahim raised an eyebrow right back at her. "Do you know something I don't, dear?"

She laughed lightly. "Call it mother's intuition," she smiled. "Sweetheart, has Fiyero ever brought a girl home before?"

Ibrahim snorted. "From what I hear, Fiyero hasn't dated a girl long enough to learn her last name before, let alone bring her home."

Kasmira smiled. "Exactly. Fiyero must be serious about this girl. They've been dating for four months."

"And you're ready to start planning the wedding?" the king teased his wife.

"I'm just saying, I want to make sure she feels welcome. And from his letters, I'd say Yero does too."

Ibrahim rolled his eyes. Another letter had arrived from their son in yesterday's post, the sixth in the month that this visit had been arranged. Ibrahim couldn't remember the last time his son had written home this often.

"Has he added more rules or is just a reminder?"

"Just a reminder," Kasmira chuckled.

"I think we should be offended. He clearly thinks we're horrendible people and we're going to interrogate or traumatise the poor girl."

Kasmira laughed again, but Ibrahim wasn't entirely joking.

Fiyero had been mentioning Elphaba Thropp to them since he'd first started at Shiz, but said nothing of their relationship. When Fiyero had first referred to Elphaba as his girlfriend some six weeks ago, nonchalantly slipping it in a letter home between mention of a party he'd gone to the last weekend and a good grade on his latest Politics essay, as though they wouldn't notice it that way; Kasmira and Ibrahim had naturally pressed for details.

The little information Fiyero had given them only told them that this was not merely a college fling, and promptly invited her to the Vinkus for the summer.

When Fiyero replied that Elphaba had accepted and would be coming, his response had been accompanied by the first set of rules- guidelines, rather.

" _Don't stare or make a big deal of her skin. She pretends it's fine, but it bugs her. She was born that way, she doesn't know how or why._

 _Her mother died when she was three, and she doesn't like to talk about her. She doesn't get on with her father, and it was kind of a miracle that he agreed to let her come for the summer. Just a note."_

In subsequent letters since, the guidelines, "just one more thing" Fiyero tended to call them, had been extended to include _"don't ask about our future, we're not there yet"; "don't ask about what she's going to do after Shiz, it's a sore point"; "please hide all the baby photos in any room she might see";_ and Ibrahim's personal favourite " _Before you ask, we're not sleeping together. She'll have her own room, and Dad can put aside the subtle hints and jokes about you guys being too young to be a grandparents, ok? (Which, by the way, I don't think you technically are, but whatever)"_

If that didn't tell Ibrahim that his wife may have a point about this being serious, nothing would.

The king did have _some_ sympathy for his son, he remembered what it had been like to introduce Kasmira to his own parents. He had known then that he wanted Kasmira to be his future queen, and wondered if Fiyero had the same thought now.

"What are you thinking of?" Kasmira asked him with a soft smile, watching her husband stare out to the garden with a distant look in his eyes.

His eyes met hers and he smiled gently. "Just remembering. I was so nervous the first time you met my parents."

Kasmira looked at him knowingly. "Sweetheart, just remember. There's a difference between meeting your son's girlfriend for the first time, and giving your approval to the next future queen of the Vinkus."

"You just said she's going to be family one day!"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean _they_ know that, or are ready to hear it. Try to get to know her before you start evaluating her as future queen, ok?"

Ibrahim agreed.

The morning passed by quietly, both keeping themselves occupied while they waited for their son to arrive home.

Just after noon, the butler, entered the drawing room. "Excuse me, Your Majesties. His Highness and Miss Thropp have arrived."

"Thank you, Gilkes. Where are they now?" Ibrahim asked.

"Mrs Ferren has shown Miss Thropp to her room to refresh from the journey. His Highness is likewise in his room. I believe he intends to escort her to the patio afterwards for refreshments before lunch is served."

Ibrahim and Kasmira exchanged a glance.

"That sounds like a lovely plan. Would you please have Mrs Ferren arrange for some fresh iced tea to be served on the patio?" Kasmira asked the butler.

He bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Kasmira rose to her feet, straightening her dress and tucking a lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear. "Shall we?" she asked Ibrahim.

He offered her his arm with a smile. "Let's."

It was warmer outside now, but thankfully the patio table was relatively shaded. Ibrahim and Kasmira hadn't been waiting too long before they heard approaching footsteps. They both turned towards the doorway and rose to their feet as they saw their son come into view, hand in hand with a young woman, who indeed, was green.

Fiyero's face broke into a grin as he met his parents' gaze, and he released the hand of his companion to come forward and greet them.

"Hey!"

Kasmira beamed at her son. "Hello, sweetheart. How was the journey?"

"Hot," Fiyero replied, hugging her lightly. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, son," Ibrahim said. "Welcome home."

"Thanks," Fiyero said, hugging his father too. " _Please_ be nice," he hissed into his father's ear, before stepping back and turning to the girl who was standing back nervously.

Ibrahim resisted the urge to roll his eyes for this reason.

"Mom, Dad, this is Elphaba," he said, gently tugging her forward. "Fae, these are my parents, Ibrahim and Kasmira."

Kasmira stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Hello, Elphaba. It's nice to finally meet you, Fiyero's mentioned so much about you."

Kasmira ignored the pained look Fiyero shot her over Elphaba's shoulder.

"Thank you for inviting me," Elphaba said.

"It was our pleasure," Ibrahim assured her, extending a hand to her. "We couldn't pass up the chance to meet the girl who's had such a good influence on our son."

Fiyero glared at his father as Elphaba smiled faintly, blushed and muttered something in response.

' _Come on!'_ he mouthed clearly and Ibrahim grinned at him.

"You must have been awfully hot in the carriage," Kasmira addressed Elphaba. "Would you like some iced tea?"

"Thank you," Elphaba accepted gratefully and Kasmira ushered her towards the table and the chair next to her own.

" _You're not even trying,"_ Fiyero hissed to his father as he passed him to take the seat on Elphaba's other side.

Ibrahim merely winked at his son as he sat down.

"So, kids. Tell us, how's school? How did final exams go?"

"Okay, I think," Elphaba replied.

Kasmira shot an inquiring glance at Fiyero, who shrugged. "Fine. I passed at least."

"I didn't think results were out yet?" his mother frowned.

"They're not," Fiyero agreed, then grinned. "But I had Fae tutoring me. I couldn't fail."

"It wasn't really tutoring," Elphaba protested. "It was just… making sure you actually studied."

"A difficult feat indeed," Ibrahim said teasingly and Fiyero glared at his father.

"You used to like me," he replied. "I remember that faintly."

Ibrahim chuckled and turned to Elphaba. "So, Elphaba. What classes did you take this year?"

It was the perfect subject to help Elphaba relax and she readily informed the king and queen about all her classes and everything she'd studied. As she and Fiyero had shared many of the same classes, it also gave them more information than Fiyero had given in all of his letters home. Although she was visibly more relaxed, she still seemed somewhat on edge as though she was waiting for something. Ibrahim felt more sympathy for her than he did for Fiyero.

It was perhaps twenty minutes later that Kasmira was called away by Mrs Ferren, and Ibrahim excused himself and followed his wife back inside.

"What is it?" she asked distractedly, seeing him appear in the kitchen behind her.

"Nothing, I just thought I'd give them a moment. She seems rather nervous, and I thought Yero might be able to calm her."

Kasmira smiled. "Meeting the parents is always a big step, even when you're not dating royalty. I can't blame her. And if her home life is anything as bad as Fiyero's hinted at, we'll have to ease her into this. What excuse did you give for leaving?"

He grinned sheepishly at her and Mrs Ferren and stepped forward towards the cookie jar on the counter.

"Cookies."

Kasmira rolled her eyes.

As they headed back towards the patio, Kasmira drew her husband to a stop as they heard Elphaba's voice float back to them.

"What exactly did you tell them?"

"I just told them the truth. That you're brilliant, amazing and beautiful-"

"Uh huh. Flattery will get you nowhere, Tiggular. What did you tell your parents?"

Fiyero faltered. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said innocently.

There was a pause and then he relented.

"Fine. I may have given them a few… guidelines."

" _Guidelines?"_

"Yeah, you know. A few subjects to avoid."

" _Fiyero!"_

"Well, I didn't want to you to have to deal with awkward questions!" Fiyero defended himself.

"Like?"

"Your parents, mostly. I know you don't like to talk about your mom, and your father…"

Elphaba's voice softened. "Yero, I'm a big girl. I can deal with some questions about my parents, and my skin, and anything else that comes up."

"I know," Fiyero conceded. "I just… was trying to keep things as easy as possible for you. What gave it away?"

"Half an hour discussing every class I took this year," Elphaba replied dryly. "I haven't done the whole 'meet the parents' before, but I doubt my study habits are the most important thing your parents would like to know about me. Besides, I share a room with Galinda. She's been yammering on about what to expect for a month now."

Fiyero snorted. "Yeah, because Glin has so much experience meeting the parents."

"Oh, like _you_ can talk?" Elphaba countered pointedly, and Ibrahim couldn't stifle a laugh.

Elphaba and Fiyero both jumped and turned, and Ibrahim led Kasmira forward trying to look nonchalant and as though they hadn't been standing there eavesdropping.

"Cookie, Elphaba?" he asked as he resumed his seat, offering her the jar.

She smiled and took a cookie. "Thank you."

Kasmira and Ibrahim promptly made the decision to ignore all of Fiyero's "guidelines", and settled in to get to know Elphaba properly.

That night, when the king and queen bid Elphaba and Fiyero goodnight and retired to their suite, Kasmira wasted no time in bringing up the topic with her husband.

"I think she's lovely. And she and Yero seem well suited."

"She's very different from the other girls we've known Fiyero to date," Ibrahim observed. "That's a good thing," he added hastily off Kasmira's questioning look. "Is it just me or does Yero seem more settled?"

Kasmira smiled softly. "You saw it too?"

As they prepared for bed, Ibrahim grew thoughtful.

"What are you thinking?" Kasmira asked him.

"I was just thinking of who she reminds me of."

"Elphaba?" his wife replied in surprise. "Who?"

"Natela."

Kasmira frowned as she settled into bed. "Natela? Who?"

"Natela Dahl. Scattershot's wife."

It took a moment for Kasmira to think of why Elphaba would remind her husband of Natela Dahl, but once it came back to her, she had to admit he was right.

As it connected for her, Kasmira chuckled. "You're going to tell Fiyero this?"

Ibrahim grinned at her. "You know he secretly appreciates these family history moments."

Kasmira just laughed.

It wasn't until three days later that Ibrahim found himself alone with his son. Kasmira had invited Elphaba along with her to a charity book sale that was being held- and Elphaba was never one to pass up a book sale.

Ibrahim had settled down in his study to get some work done, and ten minutes later, Fiyero had lightly tapped on the door.

"Hey Dad," he greeted him nonchalantly. "You busy?"

Ibrahim hid a smile as he looked up. "Just reading some papers, nothing terribly interesting. Are _you_ busy?"

Fiyero scoffed. "Dad, I'm on summer vacation. How busy could I be?"

Ibrahim grinned. "My mistake. You didn't want to go with Elphaba and your mom?"

"To a book sale? Fae could be there for _hours_ ," Fiyero replied, not exaggerating in the least. "I thought I'd skip this time."

"And you thought you'd come annoy me instead?"

"What, a guy can't spend time with his father?" Fiyero asked lightly.

Ibrahim chuckled and gestured for him to take a seat. Then he returned to the papers he was reading and waited. He wasn't kept waiting long.

"So… what do you guys think of Elphaba?" Fiyero asked shortly after.

Ibrahim lowered his papers for a second time and looked to his son.

"She's nice."

Fiyero raised an eyebrow. " _Nice?"_ he cried indignantly and Ibrahim laughed.

It was too easy.

"She's lovely," he reassured her. "She's intelligent and well spoken, and she certainly has you completely wrapped around her finger, doesn't she?" he asked slyly.

Fiyero looked offended for a brief second and then relented. "Yeah," he said sheepishly, reddening slightly. "And she doesn't even know it."

Ibrahim didn't doubt that.

"You and Mom really like her?"

Ibrahim nodded. "Yes, Yero. Actually, the night you two arrived, I told your mother that Elphaba reminded me of someone."

Fiyero looked startled and then grew wary. "Who?"

"Natela Dahl."

The name meant nothing to Fiyero, but the surname was enough to clue him in as to where this was going.

Fiyero made a face. "This is going to become a family history lesson, isn't it?"

"Yes," Ibrahim agreed.

Fiyero sighed in resignation. "Alright, who is Natela Dahl and exactly how are we related?"

"Natela was the wife of Scattershot Dahl," Ibrahim told him. "So, she's your great-grandmother, twelve times removed."

Fiyero's head rolled back at he sighed.

"You know, Dad," he said conversationally. "One day, you're going to run out of ancestors you can make life lessons out of, and _then_ where will we be?"

"Tell them to my grandchildren and hope they pay more attention than their father does," Ibrahim teased him.

Fiyero rolled his eyes. "OK, Natela Dahl. I'm listening. What's so special about her?"

Ibrahim put the papers in his hand down and leaned back in his chair.

"Natela's husband, Scattershot, was never supposed to be king, you know."

"Well, yeah. Otherwise his parents' wouldn't have named him _Scattershot,"_ Fiyero interjected as though it were obvious.

Ibrahim thought he had a point, but didn't say so.

"Dad, we learned about Scattershot in like the fourth grade. 'The Accidental King'," Fiyero said, raising his hands and doing the air quotes.

"Wasn't he a lawyer or something?"

Ibrahim nodded, pleased. "Yes, he was. Well done, Yero."

"So, what's the deal with Natela? How does she remind you of Elphaba?"

Ibrahim cleared his throat. "Natela's parents were both teachers, and she was the youngest of seven. She was rather unique, in that her parents ensured she received the same education as her six older brothers."

"So, she was smart?"

"By all reports she was highly intelligent," Ibrahim agreed. "She was the first woman in Oz to attend university, and she studied law."

Fiyero grinned. "Sounds like something Fae would do. She went to Dahl University? That's the only one that would have been around then, right?"

Fiyero himself had attended Dahl University, for a year and a half until he'd flunked out. It had been his first, and despite the fact it hadn't worked out, he had enjoyed his time there.

"It was. I believe that library is named after her."

"Oh," Fiyero said in surprise. "Maybe that's why the name is familiar."

Ibrahim smirked. "Perhaps if the campus pub was named after her, you'd know more about her," he teased.

Fiyero laughed. "Maybe," he agreed. "I should tell Elphaba about her. She'd probably like hearing about her."

"I'm sure she would, but that wasn't the end of the story, Yero."

"There's more?"

His father nodded. "Yes. Do you know much about Scattershot before he took the throne?"

Fiyero shrugged. "He studied law… I think he taught it or something at the school, didn't he?"

"He did."

Ibrahim paused, trying to think the best way to word it. "Scattershot was the youngest child of a youngest child. Being a member of the royal family, but not expecting to inherit the throne is a strange position. Scattershot was rather… at a loss. Directionless."

Fiyero's gaze turned wary. "Is this about Elphaba or me now?"

Ibrahim smiled gently. "I think the two are related, son."

Fiyero frowned in confusion, and his father explained lightly. "When Scattershot became king suddenly, he was overwhelmed. It was Natela who advised him on policy and encouraged him to make some changes. It was Scattershot who made education mandatory until children were eighteen, and allowed girls to have the same education opportunities as boys."

Fiyero fell silent, a thoughtful frown on his face as he dwelled on his father's words.

"So… Natela helped Scattershot be a better ruler. You think Fae could do the same for me?"

"I think she already has," Ibrahim replied. "You're so much more settled since you've met her, Yero. Your mother and I can both see that."

"Maybe that's because of Shiz, not Elphaba," Fiyero argued.

"Do you really think that?"

Fiyero conceded defeat pretty quickly. "No," he admitted quietly.

The king looked at his son gently. "I know you said that you and Elphaba aren't thinking about the long term future just yet-"

"We've only been dating for four months," Fiyero said, his face reddening again. "And Fae… she doesn't trust easy. The fact that she's here and meeting you and Mom is a huge deal."

"We know, son," Ibrahim said softly. They'd picked up on that much. "I'm not trying to pressure you. But you asked what we thought, and I'm being honest with you. We think Elphaba is a wonderful girl, and the two of you are good together. And whilst I don't think we know Elphaba well enough yet, I think you could be as good for her as she is for you."

Fiyero fell silent again.

"When you said she reminded you of someone," he said at length. "I would have thought if it was an ancestor, it would have been Fala. That's who she always makes me think of."

"And that's why you call her Fae," Ibrahim realised and Fiyero nodded.

"Yeah. The Animals are really important to Elphaba."

A distant expression flickered across Fiyero's face for a moment, and Ibrahim watched his son carefully. It was obvious to the king that his son was hopelessly in love with Elphaba, and he supressed a smile.

"Hopefully you have better luck than Scattershot," he remarked casually.

"What does that mean?" Fiyero asked him warily.

Ibrahim allowed himself to grin. "The stories say that Scattershot had to propose to Natela nine times before she agreed to marry him."

Fiyero couldn't hide his surprise. " _Nine?_ Why?!"

Ibrahim shrugged. "I can't say for sure. I think your grandfather once told me that her condition was that he found himself a useful occupation that could be a good role model for any children they had. That's why he became a law professor."

Fiyero wasn't sure how he felt about his father comparing his and Elphaba's relationship to that of his ancestors, but he knew Elphaba would enjoy the story of Natela.

Elphaba and Kasmira returned from the book sale, Elphaba unapologetically carrying a whole bag of books back with her, and that admittedly filled most of the conversation between her and Fiyero as he listened patiently to her explanation of every book she'd bought.

It wasn't until they were eating dinner that Fiyero remembered about Natela and managed to bring her up.

"Hey, I thought of something we could do while you're here, Fae," he said casually.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I thought you might want to go over to Dahl University and check out the campus."

Elphaba, Ibrahim and Kasmira all stared at him.

"You want to go to a _school_ on _summer vacation?"_ Elphaba asked slowly. "I don't understand. Did you hit your head today, or are you sucking up to me for some reason?"

Fiyero grinned. "Neither. I just think you'd like it."

Elphaba still seemed somewhat sceptical. "Well, I _would_ like to see it," she admitted. "I would have loved to have studied there, but my father didn't want Nessa to be so far from home."

Fiyero actually felt a rush of gratitution towards Elphaba's father and his blatant favouritism of Nessarose. He hated to think of Shiz without knowing Elphaba- if she'd gone to Dahl, they probably never would have met.

"You know, Elphaba," Ibrahim interjected. "Fiyero's twelfth great grandmother was the first woman in Oz to attend university, and she studied at Dahl."

As Fiyero had expected, that caught Elphaba's interest.

"Really? What did she study?"

"Law. That's how she met her husband, Scattershot."

Elphaba's eyebrow raised. " _Scattershot?!"_

"Yeah, I don't think his parents liked him very much," Fiyero muttered to her from across the table.

Elphaba stifled a smile as Ibrahim rolled his eyes at his son. Kamira laughed softly.

"Was she nobility?" Elphaba asked the king. "I mean, to be able to go to university as a woman… even Shiz has only been accepting women for about forty years."

"This was the 1400s, so yes it was quite controversial," Ibrahim said, looking pleased. "But she was rather progressive for her time. She refused to come out, you know."

Fiyero stared at him blankly. "Come out? Like, into society or out of the closet?"

The king sighed. "The former, Fiyero."

"She refused to be a debutante?" Elphaba asked. "Can you do that?"

Kasmira smiled at Elphaba. "No one had that could afford to," she said. "I know this part of the story. She wrote in her diary that it was 'an outdated practice and she refused to be treated like a cow to be marched about the market and see who could fetch the best prize.' Apparently people told her she'd never make a good marriage if she didn't have a season-"

"And then she ended up becoming queen," Elphaba finished. "I like this woman," she smiled. "How do you know what was in her diary?"

"All kinds of documents have been preserved in the royal archives," Ibrahim assured her. "But Natela's diary is currently being loaned to Dahl University. You can see it when you visit the campus if you wish."

"Natela," Elphaba repeated her name quietly. "What's the university doing with it?"

"The library is doing an exhibit on Natela and Scattershot," Kasmira explained. "You see, until he came to the throne, Scattershot taught law at the university. Once he took the throne, she took over his classes."

Elphaba looked thrillified with this information. "She sounds amazing. Why did you never tell me about her?" she demanded of Fiyero.

He snorted. "What, like I can be expected to remember every ancestor I have?" he retorted.

"You remembered Fala."

"She _married_ her _cousin._ You don't tend to forget that," Fiyero replied dryly.

As they finished dinner, Ibrahim told Elphaba everything he could remember about Natela, and they agreed to travel out to Dahl University at the end of the week so that Elphaba could see the exhibit.

Ibrahim had also promised to find for Elphaba a biography on Scattershot and Natela that he was sure was somewhere in the library, and Elphaba was far more elated about that than Fiyero thought was really necessary. He was grateful that Ibrahim hadn't mentioned to Elphaba his theory comparing their own relationship to that of his ancestors; Fiyero was still trying to process his father's words and work out how he felt about the idea.

"Would you say yes if I proposed?"

Elphaba stopped dead in her tracks, and gaped at him with wide eyes as the blood drained from her face. " _Excuse me?!"_

They had left the dining room with the intent of going to the parlour and listening to the radio for a while. Fiyero's abrupt question had come completely out of the blue as they walked the halls and Elphaba was rather alarmed.

It took Fiyero a moment to place why she looked so horrified.

"No! I mean, no- I'm not proposing. That wasn't a proposal," he said hastily.

Elphaba's shoulders sagged with relief, but she eyed him warily. "Then what _was_ that? That's not something you can just _ask_ someone, Fiyero!"

"No! I mean, I know. I didn't mean…" Fiyero sighed and then took a breath. "Let me explain."

Elphaba crossed her arms over her chest and met his gaze expectantly.

"My Dad was talking to me this morning about Natela," Fiyero explained. "One of the things he mentioned to me was that Scattershot had to propose to Natela nine times before she agreed to marry him."

"Why nine?" Elphaba asked, puzzled.

"She wanted him to make something of himself before she agreed. She wanted him to be a good role model for their children."

Elphaba studied his face carefully for a moment, frowning slightly.

"Ok," she said finally.

Fiyero shrugged lightly. "So, I've been thinking about it, you know? I imagine proposing is a pretty big deal, and to get rejected what, eight times?"

He began to walk again in the direction of the parlour, and Elphaba slowly followed.

"Ok," she said again, trying to understand.

They entered the parlour and as they took a seat, Fiyero looked to Elphaba.

"I know that we're not there, like, anywhere near the point of even talking about it," he assured her.

Elphaba let out a breath, nodding faintly.

"But," Fiyero continued. "When we get to that point, I'm thinking I'd like to know of any pre-requisites before I ask."

Elphaba tried and failed to choke back a laugh.

"Sorry," she apologised hastily.

Fiyero's eyes narrowed. "Are you laughing at the idea of me proposing, or because I used 'pre- requisites'?"

"The latter," she assured him.

Fiyero was ok with that.

Elphaba bit her lip. "You think we're going to get to that point?" she asked him.

Fiyero wasn't if honesty was the best policy here, but decided to take a chance.

"Yes," he answered. "Don't you?"

"I hadn't thought about it."

"You mean, you haven't let yourself think about it," Fiyero guessed. From the way she blushed and avoided his gaze, he figured he was accurate.

"Fae-"

"I'm not… _opposed_ to the idea," she cut him off. "But I'm not ready to… go there yet. Is that ok?" she asked tentatively.

Fiyero nodded. "Of course it is," he reassured her. "Just keep in mind one day, it's a conversation I'd like to have. One day… a long time from now."

Elphaba couldn't help but smile slightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Fiyero leaned over and kissed her softly and then abruptly leapt to his feet.

"Are you hungry? I kinda want pie. Do you want some?"

Elphaba was startled. "Pie? We just finished dinner!"

"What's your point?" he grinned at her, and then gestured to the radio. "You find us something to listen to, and I'll get the pie."

Elphaba rolled her eyes as he left the room, but didn't move towards the radio. Instead, she leaned back in her seat and let out a breath.

She'd known meeting Fiyero's parents was a big step in their relationship (even without Galinda's constant reminders about that fact), but she hadn't expected the subject of marriage to come up so soon. The thought suddenly occurred to her that she may be here on approval, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that.

But when Fiyero returned a few minutes later, two bowls of pie in his hand, he grinned at her and her heart skipped a beat.

"Everything ok?" he asked her, handing her a bowl.

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm just… I'm glad I came," she said honestly.

"Yeah, well… see if you're still glad once my father turns every meal into a family history lecture," Fiyero made a face.

Elphaba chuckled. She decided not to mention the fact that it had been Fiyero who technically had brought the subject up over dinner, and took a mouthful of pie.

Whether or not she _was_ here to get the king and queen's approval, she _was_ glad she was here. She had a feeling she would learn a lot.

 **AN. Last week, I saw a community theatre production of** _ **Wicked.**_ **If you follow me on Twitter, Tumblr or my blog, you may have seen some notes I made about the staging- particularly regarding ALAYM.**

 **If you haven't checked it out, Fiyeraba fans may want to. It was…** _ **wow.**_

 **I'm also going again tomorrow night. And then this weekend I'm seeing… DELTA! *excited squeal* It's going to be a great week, you guys!**


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